The Machine
by TheHeartOfTheDetective
Summary: With names such as 'Machine' and even 'Robot', 17 year old Sherlock Holmes definitely lives up to people's expectations. He is cold, emotionless, and his only friend is John Watson. He has trained himself not to love because after all, sentiment is a chemical defect found on the losing side. Molly Hooper, though, might be an exception. (Teen!Lock)
1. Chapter 1

Molly Hooper sat down next to her best friend in the dining hall. Usually, she would have bought a tray, but the line was longer than usual today and her class had been excused to lunch late.

"Not eating?" Her best friend, Mary Morstan, asked her.

"No," Molly said, shaking her head. "The lines a bit long today."

Mary took a bag of copped up carrots out of her lunch sack and handed it to Molly. "Mr. Garoff let you out late again?"

Molly took the bag and took out a carrot, taking a bite of it. "Yeah."

"He is such a prick." Mary said.

"I know." Molly agreed.

They silently ate for a few minutes. Molly finished her carrots, and then looked over at Mary who was eating a sandwich. Mary was very pretty, in Molly's opinion. She had short blonde hair that came right below her ears and green eyes. Her tie was undone, which she was sure to get in trouble for later. Other than that, her uniform was always the way it should be. She had pale, flawless skin. Molly wished she were as beautiful as her best friend.

Mary finished her sandwich and put all of her trash back into her sack. "Molly?"

"Yes?" Molly answered.

"Wanna come over later?" Mary asked. "Or we could go to the cinema. I heard there was some romance comedy movie that is really good."

"I'd love to," Molly said. "But Dad is back in hospital. I promised I would hang out for a few hours after school."

"Oh my god, is he okay?" Mary asked, worry in her voice.

"No," Molly said sadly. "He's in pretty bad shape."

Katherine wrapped her arms around Molly. "I'm sorry."

Molly wrapped hers around Mary as she spoke. "It's okay. He's been ill for so long now. It'll be best if it's over soon."

After they pulled away from each other, Molly wiped a tear off her cheek. She loved her father so much, but she hated to see him suffer. He had had leukemia for three years, and it only seemed to be getting worse.

"You know what?" Molly said. "We can go out for coffee before I visit him. We haven't done that in a long time."

"Sound great," Mary said, giving Molly a smile.

The bell rang and Molly and Mary got up, throwing their trash in the nearest bin and walking out of the dining hall.

* * *

Molly and Mary walked to Starbucks after school. When they stepped in side, they sat down at an empty table in the far corner of the room. They looked around for a moment, and then Molly finally got up.

"Double chocolate caramel frappe?" Molly asked.

Mary smiled. "You know me so well."

Molly smiled back and walked to the counter. The man at the counter asked for her order and she told him, "Double chocolate Frappuccino and double chocolate chip Frappuccino." The man nodded his head and told his coworkers the order, who then began to make it. Molly paid the man, and then turned her back, leaning against the counter. Starbucks was empty besides Mary, herself, and the employees. She crossed her arms as she waited and looked towards the door. It was about time for Starbucks to become packed with students.

The first person to come in was a boy named John Watson. He had sandy blonde hair and was in a year above her. John stopped in the doorway and looked behind him. He made an expression, as if he were communicating with someone through looks, and nodded his head, turning back round and walking to the counter.

"Hello." He said to Molly.

"Um, hi." Molly said.

John ordered his coffee and sat down at a table across from where Mary sat. Moments later, another boy in his grade walked in. He was tall with curly brown hair. His cheekbones were striking and his eyes were a magnificent mix of blue, silver, and gold.

Molly had a schoolgirl crush on him, but most people saw him as a prick. They would call him 'Machine', and even some called him a robot. If he were a robot, he would have no feelings, yes? Well, that was Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock Holmes, the man who was now standing next to Molly.

"Are you alright?" He asked, snapping Molly out of her thoughts.

"Oh," Molly said, blushing. "Um, yes. I was just – just thinking."

"Okay then," Sherlock said. "Then I'll say it again. Hello Molly Hooper."

"Hello, Sherlock." Molly said, turning her head to him.

"Can I help you?" The man at the counter asked him as he set Molly's order on the counter. "Here you go ma'me."

"Thanks." Molly said quietly. She grabbed the Frappuccino's and turned to walk away as Sherlock ordered his coffee.

"Black," Sherlock said. "Two sugars."

"That's it?" The man asked.

"Yes." Sherlock said.

"Oh, and this is for that boy over there." The man said, handing Sherlock John's order. "Take it to him, will ya?"

Molly sat down across from Mary, who was grinning wildly. Molly handed her the frappe and started to drink her own. Mary just kept looking at her, and Molly already knew why. She tried to ignore her friend's stare, but after two minutes, it was getting creepy.

"What?" Molly asked as more students started coming in.

"Sherlock Holmes." Mary said.

"What about him?" Molly said, sipping again on her frappe.

"You talked to him?"

"Yes."

"What did he say?"

Molly rolled her eyes. "He said 'Hello, Molly Hooper.'"

Mary's grin didn't fade.

"What?" Molly asked again.

"Oh, nothing." Mary giggled as she finally took a sip of her own coffee.

* * *

**I would like to thank ItsJustAMagicTrick (on Wattpad) for giving me this idea! I'm happy to be writing it for her, and I'm sure it is going to be really fun! Constructive criticism is more than welcomed and I hope you all enjoy! xxx**

**–OH**


	2. Chapter 2

"What?" Sherlock Holmes asked John Watson when he finally got his coffee. John was staring at him, and it was rather annoying.

"Oh," John said. "Nothing."

"Something," Sherlock said. "What is it?"

"Just…you." John said.

"What about me?" Sherlock asked.

"Well you were talking." John had a huge grin on his face.

"Yes, and?" Sherlock said.

"You were talking," John said. "To a girl."

"So?"

"Well, you never do that."

"And your point is…?"

"Do you like her?" John asked.

Sherlock almost spit out his coffee. "What?"

John was laughing.

"Molly Hooper?" Sherlock asked.

"Yes!" John said.

"John," Sherlock said. "You know me, and you know my thoughts on sentiment."

"Oh, look at that." John said, looking over Sherlock's shoulder and Molly and Mary Morstan.

"What?" Sherlock said, turning to follow John's gaze. He quickly turned back when he saw the two girls looking back at them. "They are looking at us. Why are they looking at us?" Sherlock lowered his voice.

John was laughing again. "I'm pretty sure Molly likes you, Sherlock."

"No." Sherlock denied.

"Yes." John said.

"And what evidence do you have?" Sherlock asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well," John said. "She is staring at you and giggling with Mary."

Sherlock said nothing.

"How about this," John said. "You ask Molly out, and Mary out. Deal?"

"Let me see. Um…no." Sherlock said, verbally rolling his eyes.

"Why not?"

"Because I don't date, John. Having partners just get in the way."

"Okay," John said. "You have fun with that, and I'll got get Mary's phone number. Watch and learn." John stood up from the table and walked across the room to where Molly and Mary sat.

Sherlock couldn't hear what they were saying, but after a few minutes, Mary took a notepad out of her school bag and wrote down something. John took the note and gave her a smile before turning on his heels and walking back to his best friend.

"And that, Sherlock," John said. "is how you get a date."

"Yes, I'll make a note of that." Sherlock rolled his eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

"You and John Watson?" Molly said, her smile wider then her cheeks.

"Mhmm." Mary hummed, looking over at John and Sherlock's table.

"And you've liked him for how long?"

Mary giggled. "Awhile."

Molly opened her mouth to say something else, but her mobile's vibration and song interrupted her. "Hang on. I'm ringing." She held her phone to her ear and spoke. "Hello?...Mum, what's…Oh my god…Yes, hold on. I'm on my way…Love you." She hung up and stood from her chair.

"Molly," Mary said, concern in her voice. "What's happened? What's wrong?"

Molly pushed in her chair and picked up her bag, which she had placed next to her chair earlier. "Dad had a seizure during his surgery."

"Oh my god." Mary stood up and began to walk with Molly, who was rushing towards the door.

"They think he is going to be fine, but they had to continue with the operation. I have to get to the hospital."

Outside, Molly hailed a cab and she and Mary got into the back seat.

"Is your mum gonna be alright with you coming?" Molly asked.

"She'll be fine," Mary said. "You're going to need some company."

"Bart's." Molly said to the cab.

Molly's mother met Molly and Mary in the vestibule. She immediately hugged Molly, and Mary came after. "Good to see you Mary."

"How's Dad?" Molly asked.

"They just took him to ICU, but they aren't letting anyone in, not even family."

"Why?" Mary asked.

"They are keeping a close eye on him, and don't want anyone to get in the way."

"You need to get some rest," Molly said, noticing the bags under her eyes. "Go home. Mary and I can wait here until they let him have visitors."

"Are you sure?" Mrs Hooper asked.

"Positive." Molly said.

Mrs Hooper looked between the two girls and said goodbye, leaving them.

After two hours in the vestibule, the girls began to get hungry. Mary's stomach rumbled loudly, and Molly turned to look at her.

"I guess I'll go get us some crisps." Molly said.

"Good idea." Mary said.

Molly stood up. "I'll be back."

Molly hated hospitals. She hated how there was constantly nurses roaming around and she hated how white everything looked. She hated passing people, tears running down there face and loud sobs coming from their lips as doctors informed them of their loss. She hated knowing that she was more than likely going to be in the same situation some day.

When she reached the vending machine, there was someone there. She stood behind him, waiting until he was done. After he had grabbed his crisps, he turned round and Molly took a step back before realizing whom it was.

Sherlock stood, a bag of crisps in each hand. "Oh, hello Molly."

Molly took another step back. "Um, hello."

"Something happen with your father?" He took a step towards her.

"Seizure," Molly said. "Sorry, how did you…?"

"I've heard you speak with Mary about your father," He informed her. "Leukemia? Terrible."

"Yes," Molly said. "If you don't mind my asking, why are you here?"

"My father is having an operation," Sherlock said. "I've got to drive him home in an hour."

"Is he okay?" Molly asked, stepping over to the vending machine.

"Fine," Sherlock said. "It's just something they do every few weeks. It's not always surgical, sometimes just x-rays."

"Oh." Molly pressed a few buttons and inserted money into the machine. It dropped two bags of crisps, and Molly collected them. She stood up and turned round to Sherlock. "Well, it was lovely to see you."

"I'm sure it was." Sherlock said.

"Um…" Molly was unsure of how to respond to that.

"Good day, Molly Hooper." Sherlock headed down the hallway to the elevator. Molly headed back to the vestibule. When she arrived, she sat down next to Mary, who was smiling.

"What's wrong with you?" Molly asked. She handed Mary her chips and smiled back at her.

"Do you know who else is here?" Mary asked.

"Sherlock?" Molly asked. "I know, I just spoke to him.

"Well," Mary said. "I was talking about John, but good for you! Anything interesting?"

"No," Molly opened her bag, and stuck her hand in, grabbing a crisp and putting it into her mouth. "He's here for his father too, though." She said after swallowing.

"Really?"

"Yeah," Molly said. "I guess John just came with him."

"Guess so." Mary said.

"Mary," Molly turned to her. "You should probably get home before your mother worries about you."

"Will you be okay?" She asked.

"I'll be fine," Molly said. "See you at school tomorrow."

Mary looked at Molly for a moment, and then gave her a hug. "See you." She stood up and left, leaving Molly by herself in.

Well, until Sherlock took a seat next to her.


	4. Chapter 4

"Hello, Molly."

Molly almost jumped in her seat. She hadn't noticed him walking towards her until he spoke while sitting down. "Sherlock! Hi!"

Sherlock frowned. "Are you okay?"

Molly nodded. "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine, absolutely… fine. I just didn't know you had come over here."

"Okay…" Sherlock said. "Well, I've got an hour before my father. I might as well spend it socializing. My parents told me I should do that more. I don't know why."

"Maybe they just want you to make more friends." Molly said, looking over to him.

"That is the likely answer," Sherlock nodded. "So, time to be social…" He went silent.

"You okay?" Molly asked.

"Fine, I just…" He trailed off. "I'm not quite sure what to say."

"Maybe, ask questions?" Molly suggested. "Or I could ask you questions, if asking makes you uncomfortable. Um…What's your favorite color?"

Sherlock thought for a moment. "Navy, or black."

Molly nodded. "What about … your favorite band?"

"I don't really listen to bands," Sherlock said. "I listen to more classical music, mainly on violin, when I even do listen to music. I usually just find it on YouTube."

"Do you play any instruments?"

"Violin."

Molly smiled. "How long?"

He looked over at her. "Since I was ten."

"Okay," Molly said. "Let's step it up a bit. What do you want to major in, after high school?"

He responded immediately. "Forensics."

"That's funny," Molly said. "I want to major in forensics too."

"Really?" Sherlock asked. Molly nodded. "What do you want to be?"

"A forensic pathologist," Molly said, smiling again. "I find autopsies, and figuring out the cause of death to be fascinating."

Sherlock smiled back. "I want to be a detective. I find detective work to be fascinating."

"Where do you want to live?" Molly asked.

"I just want to stay in London," Sherlock told her. "I quite like it here."

"Yeah, me too." Molly agreed.

They asked each other questions, back and forth. When the hour finally ended, Sherlock stood up. "Well, my father should be ready to go, now."

Molly stood up too. "Hold on."

She didn't know why she was doing it, but she pulled a notepad out of her pocket, and scribbled numbers onto it. Then, she took a second to contemplate whether Sherlock would even use it. She finally ripped it off of the pad, and folded it. Sherlock looked at her, and cocked his head. She smiled, and reached out her hand, the paper in her palm. He took it, and opened it.

"Is this your mobile number?" He said after a moment.

"Yes," Molly nodded. "It is."

He looked confused, and Molly just sat back down.

"Why have you given me the number for your mobile phone?" Sherlock asked.

"Because I though you may want to use it." Molly answered.

"Why would you think that?" He furrowed his brows.

"Because I have enjoyed talking to you," Molly said. "And the fact that you didn't leave until the hour was up, I thought you may want to continue conversing later. Goodbye, Sherlock."

He stared at her for a moment. Molly could tell that he was contemplating if he would or not. Finally, he said, "Goodbye, Molly." And walked away.

Molly took out her phone, and began to text Mary. She would not believe what she had just done.


	5. Chapter 5

"Seriously?"

"Yes!" Molly could almost hear Mary's jaw drop through the phone.

"And he _actually_ accepted it?" Mary asked.

Molly's smile was wider than it had been in years. "Yes! I was there, I am _pretty_ sure he accepted it.

"That's amazing!" Mary exclaimed.

Molly fell back onto her bed. "I still can't believe it."

"Are you sure you aren't just taking the mickey out of me? I'm not quite sure I believe you."

"I'm sure!"

Mary said, "And, did you get his number as well?"

"Um," Molly said. "No, but he did accept my number, so I felt like that was enough."

"You should have asked for his number!" Mary said.

"He wouldn't have given it to me, you know that, Mary."

"He might have."

Molly sighed. "I know he wouldn't have."

"Well," Mary said after a minute, "we'll just have to see if he texts you or not."

A week later, Molly had been to see her father every day, she had done the shopping for her family twice, she had babysat her cousin once, and she had gotten no texts from Sherlock Holmes. She was beginning to think that Sherlock really hadn't enjoyed talking to her, and was embarrassed that she had given him her number. What a dumb move.

She avoided looking at him in the hall. Even when Mary stopped to talk to John, Molly went to class by herself just to avoid Sherlock, who was always at his best friend's side. At just the thought that she ever believed that Sherlock enjoyed conversing with her, she blushed, gaining odd looks from classmates and questions from her nosy mother. Finally, Molly gave up hope of ever even speaking to Sherlock again.

As she sat in room 203, her father's hospital room, she received a text from an unknown number.

_Lobby._

_ SH_

Molly tried to hold in her smile, but failed and began to grin as she made a wild guess at the identity of the sender of the text. She stood up and started towards the door, completely forgetting that she had her sick father and her mother in the room.

"Where are you going?" Her mother asked.

Molly stopped in front of the door and turned around. "A friend just texted saying they were in the lobby."

"Mary?"

Molly looked down at her phone, and put it in her pocket. "Um, no. His name is Sherlock." She blushed as both her mother and father stared at her.

Her mother furrowed her brows. "Who?"

Molly's father let out a short laugh. "Oooh. Got a secret boyfriend, Molls?"

Molly rolled her eyes. "No, I barely know him. Now, if you'll excuse me."

Molly left without allowing her parents another word, and pulled her phone back out of her pocket, texting Sherlock back as she walked.

_On my way._

_ Molly_

As she pressed send and turned a corner, her body collided with another. She fell, her eyes closing as her body hit the ground with a thud. When she opened her eyes, a hand extended down to her.

"Alright?" Sherlock said.

"Fine," Molly said. "Sorry."

"No need for apologies." Sherlock said, "That was partly my fault."

Molly took his hand and he pulled her to her feet. She returned her phone, which had luckily taken no damage, to her pocket.

"Well," Molly said, "hello."

"Hello." Sherlock said.

"As pleasing as it is to see you, Sherlock, why are you here?" Molly asked. "Is your father back for a procedure?"

"No," Sherlock said, "I got bored, and John was unavailable."

"So you go to hospital when you're bored?" Molly asked.

"No, I assumed you would be here." Sherlock told her. He stuck a hand inside one of his coat pockets and pulled out a bag. "Crisps?"

Molly smiled, blushing slightly, and accepted the bag. "Thanks."

"So," Sherlock said, "shall we converse in the lobby?"

"We shall." Molly said, and walked to the lobby with Sherlock, where they sat in chairs alongside each other.

"So," Sherlock started, "you want to be a forensic pathologist?"

Molly nodded. "Yes. And you want to be a detective."

"Indeed," Sherlock said, "I've never met anyone else who wanted to have a career in forensics."

"What about John?" Molly asked.

Sherlock shook his head. "He wants to go into the army. He's hoping to be an army doctor."

"That's not very common either." Molly said.

Sherlock said, "More common then forensics."

"I guess."

The two sat in an uncomfortable silence for a couple of minutes. Molly stared at her hands and twiddled her thumbs. She could feel Sherlock's stare on her.

"Do you play any instruments?" Sherlock finally asked.

Molly was taken back a bit. She furrowed her brows and looked over at him. "Sorry?"

"You asked me, but I never asked you," he said, "Do you play any instruments?"

"Oh, um," Molly said, "I played the clarinet in primary school. I still take it out and play it often. At least once a week, I'd say."

"John did too," Sherlock said, "but he quit after primary school." He looked her up and down. "You look like a clarinet player." He looked her up and down again. "Maybe a flute … or oboe. Basically any woodwind."

"Would it surprise you if I said that I played cornet as well?"

"Yes it would."

Molly laughed. "Well, I do … kind of. I mean, it sounds really bad, but I know the fingerings to it and can play at the right octaves and everything. I still just can't get the sound right."

Sherlock nodded slightly. "I would imagine it would be hard to switch from playing a woodwind instrument to a brass instrument."

"It is," Molly said, laughing, "after playing just one measure of 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star' I feel like an elephant had been standing on my chest for a decade."

"You feel crushed to death after playing?"

Another laugh. "Just about. Completely out of breath, as if all the air in my longs was sucked out of me."

"Oh." Sherlock looked towards the reception desk, where the receptionist seemed to be stressing over something important. His brows were furrowed as he tried to figure out what was wrong.

Another minute of silence, then Molly said, "We'd make a lovely couple, by the way."

Sherlock snapped his head towards her. "Sorry?"

Molly's cheeks caught fire as she realized what she had said and she began shaking her head. "Duet," she corrected herself, "Duet, I meant duet. We would make a lovely duet."

"Duet?"

"Violin," she said, "and clarinet."

"Would they even sound right together?" Sherlock asked, seeming to have forgotten what Molly had mistakenly said seconds before.

"You'd be surprised."

The next week, Molly lay on her bed, talking to Mary over the phone.

Mary was jabbering on and on about John, and Molly had no idea how much she was actual retaining. She couldn't stop thinking about Sherlock that day. Perhaps that was because they had actually texted often the past two days.

"What do you think about that?"

Molly snapped out of her thoughts, shaking her head to clear them. "Sorry, what?"

She heard Mary laugh, and then, "Shall I just repeat myself?"

"Please," Molly said. She knew that Mary knew she was thinking about Sherlock.

"John and I were going to go out for fish and chips," Mary said, "and he accidently invited Sherlock who of course agreed to come and now its kind of awkward. I think it would be lovely if you came, just so, you know, Sherlock doesn't become a third wheel or anything. We could have a double date."

Molly processed what Mary said, her cheeks still slightly heated. "A double date … as in…?"

"Me and John on a date," Mary said, "and you and Sherlock on a date." Molly could tell that she was grinning. "It'll be fun, promise."

"I don't think Sherlock would like that…"

"And I think he would!"

"We only text," Molly told her friend, sitting up, "I don't know if we even count as friends."

"Then come along and get to know each other even better. Please?" Mary begged.

Molly thought on it. "When?"

"Tonight. We'll get Sherlock to pick you up in a cab."

"Would he really?" Molly was in disbelief.

"Yes, Molly, he would," Mary said, "Please?"

The cab arrived at seven o'clock. Molly watched as it rolled up in front of her flat and she hurried down the stairs stopping at the door. She heard the knock, and brushed off her jumper to kill a few seconds before opening the door. She didn't want to seem too eager.

She opened the door, and Sherlock stood at the steps, inspecting the rose bushes behind black fence posts. He stood up straight when she opened the door, and she couldn't help the twitch of the corners of her lips. He wore a clean, white button down and a black suit jacket and trousers. His hair, however, was just as disheveled as usual. Molly still felt somewhat underdressed.

"Dressing up for fish and chips?" Molly asked.

"No," he said, "just not in uniform. This is my out-of-school dress. Ready?"

"As ever," Molly said.

Sherlock blinked his eyes at her, and then took a deep breath. Molly couldn't tell if it was a good breath or not.

He said, "John suggested that it would be nice if you and I locked arms during this event. Would you like that?"

Molly blushed. "Er, yeah. I would if you, er, want to."

He held out her arm, and Molly smiled at him, locking hers with his. He smiled back quickly and began to lead his down the steps to the cab.


	6. Chapter 6

Mary and John waited inside the restaurant, sitting next to each other in a booth. When she spotter Molly and Sherlock, Mary motioned them over, where they took their seats across from the couple, who were holding hands under the table.

"Molly, Sherlock! How are you two?" she asked, grinning broadly.

"Alright, I, erh, guess." Molly kept her eyes away from Sherlock. It was odd, she thought, sitting next to him in a booth in a restaurant. Of course, it wasn't a fancy date restaurant. But they were on a date, weren't they? A double date, but still a date.

"Hm," Sherlock hummed in agreement. Molly could tell this 'date' wasn't his first choice in how he'd spend his afternoon. She felt offended by that and decided immediately to drop the term 'date.' This was just an outing. Nothing more.

"Mary and I saved you two menus," John said, pushing a menu towards each of them, "and we told the waiter to come back a few minutes after you two arrive."

"Thank you." Molly gave him a smile and took the menu, opening it and beginning to look at all of the choices. After a few moments, she decided on the simple order of 'soup,' which was the only completely vegetarian meal on the menu. That was the worst part of being a vegetarian, she thought; not being able to eat anything.

A few minutes after deciding on her meal, the waiter came back. Molly ordered her meal and water. Mary and John both got colas and bought a large order of deep fried butterfly prawns to share. Sherlock asked for simple fish and chips with water, which surprised Molly. Sherlock looked like the kind of person who would order a more sophisticated meal, such as smoked salmon or rainbow trout or something.

As soon as the waiter left, John looked to Molly. "So, Molly, I don't think we've ever spoken properly." He stuck a hand across the table towards her. "John Watson."

Molly smiled and took his hand. "Molly Hooper." After a couple of shakes, she returned her hand to her side. "Lovely to meet you properly."

"Same to you." John had a very warm smile, quite friendly. Molly thought it likely was mainly do to the presence of Mary. She could tell really fancied her.

"So," he continued, "shall we start with the basics of getting to know each other? How old are you? What year are you in?"

"I'm sixteen," Molly told him, "and I'm in year 10."

"Same as Mary, then?"

Molly nodded.

"Well," John said, "I'm eighteen, in year twelve. Sherlock is seventeen, but in year eleven."

"Can he not answer for himself?" she asked in jest, but Sherlock stared over John's head and acted as if he hadn't heard her.

John laughed. "Apparently not." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "He's not very talkative around girls he fancies."

Sherlock snapped out of his zone and his eyebrows furrowed at his best friend. "Sorry?"

Molly blushed. "Oh, erh."

"You know," Mary said, standing up from her seat, letting go of John's hand, "I suddenly need the loo... "Molly?"

Molly stood as well, practically jumping away from Sherlock. "Oh, as do I. I'll c ome with you, if you don't mind."

"Not at all." Mary was using her 'it's obvious we're lying about why we're leaving, but I'm going to pretend no one notices' voice. "Please, do come." She and Molly hurried off.

John looked to Sherlock and shook his head. "They always go in packs, don't they?"

"Hm?" Sherlock hummed, raising a brow in question. He had zoned out again.

"Girls, to the loo." John shook his head. "Now, listen, Sherlock, you need to get your head out of you arse and pay cooperate."

"They're talking about us."

"Did you even hear me?"

"The girls," he said, "they're talking about us."

John furrowed his brow. "I'm not thick, I know they are. Now listen! Get your head out of your arse and–"

"My head isn't in my arse it's–"

John rolled his eyes. "Bloody hell, get out of your mind palace, Sherlock. There is a lovely girl who'll be sitting beside you again in a couple of minutes and you should actually speak to her."

Brows furrowed. "I do speak to her."

"When?"

"At the hospital." He crossed his arms. "We text on occasion."

"Do you actually communicate out of hospital?"

Sherlock thought for a moment. "No. Not really."

John sighed. "You poor creature." He shook his head lightly. "You've no idea how this sort of thing works, do you?"

Sherlock furrowed his eyes. "What sort of thing?"

John laughed. "Don't worry. I'll coach you."

"Coach me in what, exactly?" He seemed so confused and John thought it was hilarious.

• • •

"Molly Hooper, you are such a mouse!" Mary exclaimed as soon as the restroom door closed behind her.

Molly sighed and put her face in her hands. "I know! I l know."

"You need to learn to communicate or this date is gonna be a damp squib," Mary told her, pulling her hands away from her face.

"I am communicating!"

"Hardly! Just a bunch of chinwag at best." Mary threw her hands in the air in gesticulation. "You become so gobsmacked if just spares you a glance in his peripheral vision. It's twee, I'll admit, but you'll never get anywhere with him if you don't communicate _properly_."

"How am I supposed to when he doesn't even like me?" Molly asked. Her brows furrowed. She sighed.

Mary softened and took her best friend's hands in hers. "Molly Louise Hooper," she said, "how can you be so blind? Of course he's interested in you!"

"How could you possibly prove that?"

"You said you two text, yeah?" Mary asked.

Molly shrugged. "Sometimes."

"You are one of three people he texts, Molly."

She raised a brow. "How do you know?"

"John told me."

"Where will texting get us, anyways?" Molly sighed.

"Baby steps, dear. Baby steps."

Molly rolled her eyes. "I don't think Sherlock Holmes is one for baby steps."

"He's more for baby steps than shagging on the first date."

Molly blushed and looked down. "Mary..."

"Molly, you know I just taking the piss." Mary held out a hand, resting it on her friend's shoulder and giving her a smile.

Molly smiled back, though Mary could tell it wasn't one hundred percent real. "I know."

"Come on, then," Mary said, "They'll be wondering what we're doing."

• • •

"Sorry 'bout that," said Mary as soon as the two took their seats back at the booth.

"No, no. It's fine." John snapped his head towards Sherlock, giving him a smile. "Sherlock here was just telling me about you Molly."

"I was? Ouch!" Sherlock looked underneath the booth, then scowled at his friend.

John just smiled innocently. "Yeah he was."

Molly blushed, her cheeks feeling like two heating pads on their highest levels. "What?" she asked lightly.

"Yeah. Good things, don't worry." He looked to Sherlock once again. "Would you like to elaborate?"

"Erh..." Sherlock raised his brows at John, pleading for help, but John just shook his head softly and nodded towards Molly with his head. Sherlock cleared his throat and look from John to Mary to Molly. "I was just saying how you ... want to be a forensic pathologist after school."

"Is that true Molly?" asked John.

"Oh, erh, yeah." Molly nodded, her blushing subsiding. "Cause of death interests me. You know what they say, find a career you love."

John chuckled. "Yeah. I'm going to be a doctor. What about you Mary?"

"Nurse." She smiled. "Well, we were just meant to be, weren't we."

"Must have been!"

Molly smiled. "You too are adorable."

"Thanks dear." Mary said, playfully kicking her under the booth. "So are you two."

"Huh?" said both Sherlock and Molly in sync, Molly blushing, Sherlock going pale.

Mary and John laughed.

"You're even in sync," said John.

Mary smiled. "It was meant to be, wouldn't you agree?"

"How could I not?"

Sherlock looked across the room in an attempt to find an excuse to change the subject. "Oh, would you look at that! Our food has arrived!"

• • •

Molly arrived safely at her doorstep at nine thirty-six, Sherlock in front of her, just in front of her doorstep. Molly felt all gawky in his presence. She wished she could say it was just because he was there, but Molly was almost always this way. Sherlock just intensified her gawkiness.

"Thank you," she said, "for the night out. I, erh, I had fun." She smiled, her cheeks holding a light blush.

"So did I," he said, "It was ... very nice."

"Lovely, even."

"Yeah." Sherlock nodded. He looked at the pavement for a moment, brows furrowed in thought, then looked back up at her. "Perhaps, we could do this again?"

Molly cocked her head. "You mean, accompany John and Mary on their dates?"

"No." He shook his head. "I mean, on our own."

Her blush deepened and her doe eyes widened. "You mean, like you and me?"

"Yep."

"On a–"

"Mmh–"

"–date?"

"–hmm."

She let out a breath, and found her lips stretching into a grin. "I would like that."

A smile formed on his lips, small, but real. "Well, then, Molly Hooper. I'll text you." He began to back down the pavement.

"You'd better." The words came out so softly, she doubted he could hear them, but judging by the grin on his face, he could read lips.


End file.
